


Shed Your Skin

by Sorrel



Series: Cally!verse [2]
Category: DCU Animated, Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-26
Updated: 2009-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorrel/pseuds/Sorrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cally hates magic. Magic that causes the entire team to switch genders? Not really making her day any better. Cally's got more reason than most to have issues with this, but there's only one person who can truly understand why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shed Your Skin

Getting everyone back to the Watchtower was an exercise in frustration. Normally, they'd either take a Javelin back from the surface, or failing that, Green Lantern would transport them in a power-bubble created by his ring. But the Javelins needed a genetic signature to initialize, which wasn't going to happen until someone could program a temporary override, and GL needed a certain amount of self-confidence before anyone would trust him to carry them through the vacuum of space, and that… wasn't going to happen anytime soon either.

Eventually, J'onn got tired of the debate and pointed out that there was no gender assignation in his genetic signature, and he was perfectly capable of piloting the Javelin as far as Earth orbit. Cally was just grateful that she didn't have to grab an oxygen mask and fly up there to do the overrides herself.

Eventually, the Watchtower was reached, and half a second after they landed most of the League had scattered to their various quarters to lick their wounds in peace.

Batman grunted, the familiar sound strange and atonal in his new, higher voice. "I'll take care of the overrides, but we're going to have to have a meeting to decide how we're going to handle this situation."

Cally was having to fight to remain upright, exhaustion that had nothing to do with the physical dragging her down almost more than she could bear. "Just message their quarters. I doubt they're coming out soon."

Batman nodded. "After, I have to return to Gotham to make the necessary alterations to my uniform."

Cally wanted to tell him no, he couldn't possibly adjust his perfectly balanced fighter's body to its new shape in time to participate in anything that would even need a uniform, but she said nothing, and continued to say nothing as he turned and walked away. She'd learned her lesson about trying to keep him out of anything, and anyway he'd made it clear that it was none of her concern.

J'onn was looking at her with sympathy in his quiet eyes. "I didn't know," he said. "Not until this happened. You kept it very deeply buried."

"I wondered." She looked down at her hands, as large as dinner plates now, with huge, rough knuckles and oddly neat nails. She'd been chewing on hers since she was sixteen; did this mean that she never would have started if she hadn't gone through the Change? How were these bodies even formed, anyway? "I can deal with this, J'onn. I _will_ deal with this."

"Of course you will." He laid one (annoyingly male) hand on her shoulder. She hated that his abilities allowed him to come through this so unaffected. "Perhaps you should attempt to convince yourself of that, however."

She dredged up her best effort at a smile. From the increased worry on J'onn's usually imperturbable face, it wasn't a very good effort.

"I'll try," she assured him, and escaped before he could give her any more helpful advice.

**~*~**

Studying her appearance in the mirror, Cally fought the urge to go beg Batman for that chunk of Kryptonite he kept in his belt that he thought she didn't know about. It had to be better than this.

She was, quite simply, _huge._ She was well over six feet tall, with shoulders that would put a linebacker to shame. Easily visible through the shreds of her uniform were massive pectorals and bulging biceps, and abdominal muscles that could only be referred to as a six-pack.

This was a nightmare. She was bigger than Luthor. She was bigger than _Bruce._ She didn't remember being like this when she was… before. All she could see when she looked at herself was the man named Clark she'd met in the alternate universe. All she needed was a black and white uniform and boom, there he'd be, standing there and judging her for not being him.

"Christ, do you have issues," she told her reflection. Her reflection just frowned back at her, as unhappy about being here as she was.

Finally, she tore her gaze away from the mirror and went about solving the clothing problem. Her tights were straining a little around the thighs, but the Fortress' workmanship had held up there. Her boots had fallen apart at the time of the change, but they'd been Chloe's idea originally, never her favorite part of the uniform anyway.

The skirt was a dead loss, sagging uselessly around her suddenly much narrower hips. She was tempted to keep it anyway, if only because her suddenly prominent genitals (_I have a penis ohmygod I can't do this again_) were uncomfortably on display, but it would just make her look even more stupid than she already did.

Her uniform top she tossed directly in the trash, ignoring the fact that it would probably end up in Batman's lab instead of the incinerator. There was only so much she could deal with right now.

Bare-chested, she poked around her quarters, hunting for something she could use as a shirt. She did have civilian clothes in here, they all did in case a quick-change was necessary, but they were all suited to a tall woman, not a much taller (and broader) man.

Eventually she unearthed an old sweatshirt, one that had to have been up here almost since the beginning. She remembered exactly how she'd gotten it- she'd showed up at Luthor's right after a big battle, with Grundy, maybe? And her uniform top had been ripped just like now, and Luthor had been so openly admiring of the ripped places she'd started blushing, and without a word he'd gotten up and grabbed her this sweatshirt, and she'd worn it all night even though she wasn't cold.

And when she'd shown up for monitor duty Batman had looked at her like she'd suddenly and for no reason decided to dress herself in dog shit.

She looked at the sweatshirt for the long time. It didn't have the LexCorp logo on it. It was nothing but soft gray fabric, nothing Batman would have any cause to complain about. Nonetheless, she knew he'd recognize it.

Defiantly, she pulled it on over her head and went to find the others.

**~*~**

Everyone ended up congregating in the dining hall, because Flash was hungry (of course) and the rest of them felt more comfortable there than in the control room. Cally contemplated some dinner for herself, but the lingering tension left her feeling sick to the stomach.

They were a motley group, tonight, instead of their usual polished image of a superhero team. Flash and Hawkgirl were still wearing their original uniforms, which wasn't entirely unexpected as the two of them had much the same build as before. Flash's was hanging a little loose around the shoulders and she was seeing more nipple than she was entirely comfortable with, and the shaped bustier top of Hawkgirl's bodysuit was gaping across the chest, but they were more or less safe in their modesty.

Green Lantern had simply conjured another uniform for himself, though he'd made this one considerably less form-fitting. Batman appeared to have ripped out the majority of the customized armor that had gaped so uselessly on his much smaller frame, and had pinned the rest of the extra fabric into a semblance of a decent fit. Diana-

Cally stifled a laugh. Diana's new body was almost as oversized as her own, though she didn't have Cally's new height. She apparently hadn't been able to find any clothing to fit, so she'd simply made her own out of a bed sheet. She looked every bit as stylish in her new toga as she ever had in uniform, or an evening gown. Though she was definitely a bit hairier.

Cally's urge to laugh faded as she noticed something else- Diana's crown and bracelets, resting on the table in front of her. Cally had never seen her without them, _never._

"They are the greatest treasure of the Amazons," Diana said quietly when Cally sat down beside her. "Of course they won't work on a man's body. I have no right to wear them till this is reversed."

Cally's throat closed over at the quiet mix of resignation and faith in her friend's voice. She sounded so sure that this could be fixed, and they didn't even know what had gone wrong.

"Everyone's here, good," Batman said. She _knew_ she wasn't much later than the others, but she bristled anyway at the reproof she heard in his voice. "As best I can determine, we've been affected by magic."

"Tell me about it," Flash grumbled.

Green Lantern silenced him with a look. "As opposed to what?"

"There are any number of alien devices or newly invented technologies that we've run into before," Batman said. "But there's no evidence of radiation or genetic manipulation, which indicates magic."

"I have never heard of such a spell, but of course that doesn't mean one doesn't exist," Dian said. "Do we have any idea who's behind this attack? Are we in any kind of physical danger from the changes?"

J'onn spoke up. "We will all have to report to the infirmary for closer investigation after this meeting is over, but as best as I can determine from the minimal scanners built into your quarters, the change has been made on a quantum level, rather than biological."

Cally ignored the bit about the scanners- she'd been the one to provide them, from the Fortress' infirmary tech, she'd known pretty well what he'd do with them- and focused on the latter part. "Quantum? You'll have to forgive me if I haven't been brushing up on my physics, J'onn."

"I believe that the gender change has been made through quantum possibility- that is, instead of making a change to our chromosomes, which likely would have had a great many unpleasant side affects through the process, the spell, or whatever the cause, simply found an alternate universe in which our genders were reverse and retrieved a genetic template."

Cally saw Batman's hands curl into fists. She wasn't the only one who had issues with the alternates they'd met, thank you. "Does that mean that our bodies are in their respective universes?"

"No," Cally surprised herself by saying. "These are our bodies. All the scars are in the right places."

"You don't scar," Batman growled. She had to fight to keep her hands from going to her chest, where the symbol of her house was burned into her flesh, just a couple layers below visible. Sometimes she thought she'd chosen Superwoman's uniform just to be ironic. Too much time around Chloe, probably.

Chloe. God. No, she couldn't even think about that yet.

"I used to," she said steadily, "and trust me, this is my body. Just what it would have been if I'd always been male in this universe. That's what you meant by genetic template, isn't it, J'onn?"

"That is my theory, yes. We'll need further tests to be sure."

"That's all well and good," Hawkgirl said impatiently, "but what are we supposed to do _now?_ We can't very well go around looking like this." She swept one disdainful hand around the table, all their silly patchwork outfits. Only Lantern looked like an actual superhero, and Cally could make a pretty good guess just how much he was hanging onto that by the skin of his teeth.

"I have one or two contacts who could help with the magic angle," Batman said. "Give me a day."

"For the rest of you, give me your new measurements and the Fortress can synthesize temporary uniforms. Yes, Flash, even for you," she added, forestalling the protest she could see forming on Flash's lips.

Flash didn't look offended. "Hey, it's hard getting the fabric right. It's a friction thing."

"You've got the manners of a rabid bear," Lantern chided, then added pointedly, "Thank you, Batman, Superwoman. However, this still doesn't answer the question of what _we_ are supposed to do in the meantime."

"Well, _I'm_ fine," Flash declared. He looked startled when they all stared at him in disbelief. "What? Stuff like this happens all the time in Central City. No one will bat an eyelash at Lady Flash, although," he twisted around to frown at his brand-new ponytail, "I might want to cut my hair first." He shrugged. "Plus I've got a _lot_ of time coming to me at work. With my metabolism, I don't exactly get sick."

"All right, Flash aside," Hawkgirl cast a fondly exasperated glance across the table, "we all have lives that are going to be horribly disrupted by this… incident. If nothing else, the Justice League can't just vanish into thin air until we can reverse this mess."

"But we can go on an interstellar mission," Lantern said slowly.

"Pardon me?" Cally blurted. "We don't even have uniforms yet."

"Not literally," GL said. His voice just barely skirted "what a moron," and Cally was grateful her tanned skin mostly hid her blush. "But it'd make a good excuse. I could be the Lantern the Corps sent to Earth in the meantime, J'onn looks exactly the same, and you, Superwoman, you could synthesize a different uniform and as long as you don't use your rather distinctive heat vision, you should be fine. The three of us could handle any big disasters that come up, while the rest of you can work on getting this thing fixed."

"An excellent idea," Diana said. "But I'm afraid you will have to leave me out of these missions until things are back to normal. I am merely human as long as I'm trapped in a male body, and a human unused to this body at that."

"Then you shouldn't stay alone," Batman said. "I know magic was involved in your birth. Who knows how it might interact with this latest spell."

"I find it unlikely-" Diana began, looking severely annoyed, but Cally silence her with a shake of her head.

"You can stay with me, of course," she said, and added in an undertone, "Do you really want to be by yourself tonight? I know I don't."

Diana nodded, solemnly. "Of course. Thank you, sister."

"If that's settled," Batman said loudly, as if this latest diversion wasn't entirely his doing, "I'd like to get this meeting over with. I have work to do back in Gotham."

"As soon as I have completed my tests," J'onn said, "you are all free to leave."

"Best news I've heard all day," Flash crowed, and really, Cally couldn't agree more.

**~*~**

It was strange, seeing Diana in her apartment. Diana had been here before, of course, many times over their year of friendship. But Cally hadn't had a man in this home _ever_, with the exception of J'onn during that first week and Dick for occasional visits. And now there were two.

Suddenly, her sunny, spacious living room seemed dark and too-small.

"I've never before been flying quite like that," Diana said, still breathlessly amused by their trip from the Javelin's landing point. "I felt like a bride being carried over the threshold. My, we must have made a ridiculous sight."

Cally had to agree. One large man in tights and a sweatshirt carrying another large man in a toga through the sky? Good thing she flew quickly. And good thing Diana wasn't _completely_ a normal human (from what Cally understood of the Amazons, she probably hadn't ever been) or she'd have some terrible windburn on top of the beard stubble that was slowly but surely coming in. That was going to start itching pretty soon, Cally thought distantly. She hadn't had to use a razor in almost twenty years. She didn't know if a razor would even cut through her own stubble, these days. Scissors had stopped working on her hair during college.

Strange thoughts. Strange, strange thoughts.

She saw Diana perusing the row of photographs on the mantle and considered calling her away. It was a foolish urge; Diana was a closer friend than she'd had since Chloe moved to New York and she knew all that was important to know. There was no reason to want to hide the picture of Bruce and Dick, dressed up for an evening out at some charity event or another where they'd crossed paths. She didn't know why she still had the stupid thing, except she liked the way they smiled in it: Dick as open and warm as the sunrise, and Bruce's a secretive little half-curve, like he was maybe laughing at you but maybe you wouldn't mind so much if he was willing to share the joke. He almost never smiled at her like that, not anymore.

Of course, she liked the one next to it better, the one where Tim was climbing Dick's shoulders like a monkey and holding bunny ears over his head, while Dick was twisting to tickle him, and both of them were laughing. Cally always suspected that Babs had taken the picture, but didn't know for sure. Dick had given it to her, already framed, the Christmas after Tim's official adoption had gone through.

"This is a good picture of us," Diana said, tapping one course thumbnail against the League picture Flash had taken, back at the beginning before the polish had worn off the idea of being a team. Next to it was one of her and Diana, drunk off nothing but laughter, and one of the solemn, middle-aged man that was J'onn's human face.

"It's been a long time since that was taken." Stupid to keep them there, in plain sight like that. Stupid to keep any of them, really. But the only person who ever showed up here was Lois, and Lois had long ago perfected the art of knowing something without actually knowing it. There'd been times where she'd watched Lois practically sprain something to explain away whatever inexplicable thing Cally had just done, and she wondered what it cost, for someone as sharp as Lois to delude herself like that. She didn't deserve her friends. "Is it just me, or is Flash getting taller?"

Diana ignored her, having drifted down to the end of the mantel, past the picture of Lois with their Pulitzer, her father feeding the cows, her mother kneading bread dough, and fetched up against the very last photo, a formal headshot Chloe had had taken for the _Times_. Cally hated that picture, but Chloe loved it. Said it made her look professional.

It did. That's why Cally hated it.

"This used to be different," Diana said.

Wordlessly, Cally went to her desk and pulled out a stack of pictures from one of the lower drawers. On the top was a glossy candid photo Pete had taken back in high school, of Chloe lecturing about some meteor mutant or other, half-chewed pen tucked behind her ear, lips pink with strawberry gloss, wearing jeans and a bright green t-shirt that proudly proclaimed her the Queen Bee. She was gorgeous. She was everything Cally had ever wanted in life, and then things had changed, and Cally had learned to want other things.

She'd put that picture away the first time she'd realized she was fantasizing about kissing Bruce. She hadn't been able to face her childhood sweetheart looking at her, condemning her for giving up, even if Chloe had given up first. So she'd gone in the drawer with all the other old memories.

Diana came up beside her and rested one hand gracefully on Cally's shoulder. It didn't look like her hand, didn't really feel like it either, but the warmth of empathy was the same.

"I can't even imagine what this must be like for you. How old were you the first time?"

"Sixteen," Cally whispered. "I was sixteen, and it was nothing like this. _I_ was nothing like this. I was always tall, taller than all the boys in my class, basketball coach wanted me but all I wanted to do was play football…" She trailed off, staring at Diana's heavy male features, thick dark brows drawn down over a proud, hawklike nose in a frown of concern. She was babbling. She never babbled. "I'm a woman, Diana. I'm not a man."

"Of course you are," Diana said firmly. "You're the sister of my heart."

Cally still remembered, though, the way Diana had looked at Superman, and she remembered the look in her friend's eyes when she'd confessed, two days after everyone was back in their proper universe. It had been there and gone so quickly she almost could have imagined it, and to Diana's credit Cally thought that she really did see Cally as a woman, even now, but her first reaction was the most telling.

And Cally had seen disgust there, in the first moments after revelation. She'd seen disgust, and anger, and betrayal.

"Excuse me," she said abruptly, and tore away from Diana's well-meaning comfort. "I have to go."

"Cally, wait-" Diana said, but it was too late. Cally was already gone, out the window and off the balcony that was the reason she'd bought this apartment, up into the blue, blue sky and freedom.

For now, she wouldn't have to do anything. Just for a little while, she could stop thinking and just _be._

**~*~**

Eventually, of course, her brain came back online and she went home to apologize. As much as this was a problem for her, it had to be that much worse for Diana, who'd been raised to disdain the very body she was now inhabiting. Diana had learned a few hard lessons about the validity of the male gender over the last year or so, but as Cally was in good position to know, some things learned in childhood never quite went away. She still used her Dad's platitudes whenever the situation was at its worst, and when she was upset, she'd bake a pie. Her mother had taught her how when she was really little, and she'd found comfort in the domestic chore after the Change, when she'd had to learn how to be herself all over again.

Diana didn't have anything like that to fall back on. She just had Cally.

She was already bedded down on the couch when Cally got home. Her heart rate spiked a little when Cally opened the door, so she wasn't actually asleep, but she gave the courtesy of leaving her eyes closed, her face pressed into the pillow. She'd known that Cally was going to come home; she was giving them both a chance to sleep on it, and talk in the morning.

She'd never been more grateful for Diana's grace and sensitivity. Diana was a warrior, a princess of her people, a diplomat. And more than any of that, she was a good person.

Thankful for the reprieve, Cally changed into her softest, warmest flannel pj's, and crawled into bed, every bone aching with exhaustion. She was anticipating falling asleep immediately, losing herself in the escape of dreamland, but it didn't happen.

An hour later, the ringing phone interrupted her grim examination of the ceiling. Cally snatched it up, hoping it hadn't already woke Diana. _Someone_ should be getting some sleep, since she obviously wasn't.

"Hello?"

"What. the. hell."

She recognized that voice, filled with laughing horror. "Dick, it's after midnight."

"Seriously, Cally, this is ridiculous even for the League. Bruce!" On the other end of the line, she could easily picture his hands flailing inarticulately. "He's so pretty! _She's_ so pretty!"

Cally flinched. "Stick with 'he,'" she advised, once she was sure her voice was under control. "The pronouns will start tripping you up, otherwise."

"Yeah, okay, fair enough," Dick said agreeably. "But did you get a look at him?"

"Not really." She hadn't. The cowl had stayed remarkably in place through the change, and Cally had been too swamped by her own crushing panic to sneak a look with her vision. "What does he look like, anyway?"

Dick paused, considering the question. "A little bit like Lois, actually. Bigger build, but he's got the same basic bone structure- nose, cheekbones, chin."

Dick was probably right- with a face like Lois', Bruce just about had to be pretty. But it was still difficult to imagine the foxy angles of Lois' face, the stubborn chin and sarcastic mouth, lit with Bruce's brooding intensity. No, not just difficult. Impossible.

"Guess that proves the old theory about being attracted to someone with your own features in the opposite sex," Cally said, just to say something. "Psychologists would be thrilled."

Dick snorted. "Psychologists would be creaming their plaid boxers over ninety percent of the stuff we go through every day, you know that. Why should this be any different?"

_Because I'm afraid I'm going to lose my mind._ Definitely time to change the subject. "He said he was going to make sure he could fight in that body."

"Yeah, he's over there sparring with Babs right now. Well, Tim was in on it, too, but poor Timmy kept getting kicked in the head, so he's kind of sulking now."

"I am not!" a young male voice shouted distantly- maybe ten, fifteen feet from the phone in Dick's hand. "And Bruce kicks a lot higher now!"

Dick laughed, free and easy as always, amused but not really upset. To him this was just another weird incident in the sea of weirdness that was his life. It was something that would soon be over and he'd probably forget all about till the next time he needed some ammunition for teasing Bruce.

For Cally, it was kind of like the end of the world.

She had to get off the phone, now.

"All right, as much fun as this is, some of us actually sleep at night," she told him, forcing a smile into her voice. Dick was unusually well-tuned to vocal cues, and she didn't want him to start looking too closely into her mood. "Have fun beating up Bruce while you've still got the chance."

"Yeah, he's getting his balance back pretty fast," Dick said ruefully. "Give me a call when all this blows over, I've got tickets for MetU's big homecoming game, and I'll be damned if you're getting out of taking me this time."

"I will," she promised, and hung up the phone carefully so she wouldn't give into the temptation to crush it.

Sleep was a long time coming.

**~*~**

Normally, on a day like this she would probably be sitting at her desk and bickering with Lois about the latest story, enjoying the slight charge from the early summer sun coming in through the huge windows in the _Planet's_ bullpen. Instead, she was sitting in the control room of the Fortress and arguing with a computer.

"It's pink," she told the computer. "I'm pretty sure you've been on Earth long enough to know that pink is not a generally accepted color for males to wear."

"The change could be preformed easily, Kal-El," the computer replied, and damn it all, sometimes she hated how talented Jor-El had been as a scientist, because no computer should ever be allowed to sound _pissy,_ but this one sure did. The warped "father" protocol in her pod had been wiped when she'd destroyed it, but the "mother" protocol in the Fortress crystals was alive and well, and the mechanical facsimile of Lara got as fed up with Cally as Martha Kent ever did. "The genetic signatures in the Watchtower database would make it easy to reverse the changes already made to the entire team, in fact."

"I'm not messing with that again," Cally snapped back. "Who knows how it might interact with the spell that did this. Magic and science do not exactly mix easily, you know!"

"Magic is simply science that is differentiated at a quantum level from-"

"Don't care," Cally said. That was one of the nice things about dealing with the computer; she could cut it off and not feel guilty. Her real mom would give her the sad doe eyes, whereas the computer didn't even have eyes. "I'm not risking it and that's final." She didn't wait for a reply. "Give me the next rendering."

"You do not normally display such aversion to risk," the computer said snidely, but started working through the Kryptonian database for something that could serve as Cally's temporary uniform.

"This is different," Cally said, to the computer but mostly to the universe in general. It was. This wasn't about risking the interaction with magic, not really. She'd done it before and she'd do it again, and the computer was right in that the mix wasn't as uneasy as she liked to think. No, this was about risking her secret. Diana knew, and J'onn, but they were two of Cally's closest friends, and she trusted them with the knowledge. But what about Flash, who was completely incapable of keeping his mouth shut? Or John, who for all his Lantern training was still a Marine at heart, with all the rigidity and prejudice that implied? What about Bruce?

No. She couldn't do it. She just… couldn't.

"Rendering complete," the computer told her, and she stared at disbelief at the screen. Sometimes, she wondered what the hell Kryptonians were _thinking,_ and then she considered some of Earth's more questionable fashion choices, and realized that she probably couldn't throw stones.

"What the hell are those things on the sleeves?" she demanded. "Fungus?"

"Sleeve frills are a mark of rank, Kal-El," the computer told her.

Normally Cally loved these glimpses into the culture that had birthed her, but at the moment it was a diversion she didn't need. "I need a uniform that is practically, utilitarian, and acceptable by Earth standards. Sleeve frills and _pink_ do not fit the bill. Am I understood?"

"Understood," the computer said, sounding disgruntled. If she knew how to get to the vocal nuance codes in the programming, she'd dive right in and wipe the freaking things out, she swore. "Working."

Cally sat back with a sigh. For Hawkgirl she'd made a simple and militaristic uniform out of basic black and steel, which she thought the former cop would appreciate. Flash, now calling himself "Lady Flash" with a nonchalance that left Cally envious, got pretty much a copy of his old uniform rendered in blue, only curvier and with a built-in bra. She didn't care how slim he was; if he was going to be running around he was going to want the extra support. Bruce had taken care of his own uniform; Green Lantern had used his ring; J'onn was technically naked all the time anyway; and Diana didn't need a uniform. She was the only one left.

"Status," she requested.

"Working."

"It can't take that long; you've been on Earth for over a decade now." Her communicator chirped, and she answered without checking the ID code, assuming it was Batman checking back with an update. "Yes?"

"Hello, Kal."

Well, you know what they said about assuming things. On the other hand, the sound of Luthor's voice in her ear wasn't exactly unwelcome. Once upon a time his silky-smooth charm had put her back right up, but now it made her relax back into her chair, the sound of it warming her like a shot of fine whiskey.

"Hey. What color would you say suits me best?"

"Since you've never before asked my admittedly sharp fashion advice, I'm guessing this is a replacement for red, blue, and yellow," Luthor replied, not at all phased by her abrupt question. She'd always admired that about him, his… adaptability, she guessed was the right word. He'd always been able to keep up with her, whether she'd wanted him to or not.

"You'd be guessing right."

"In that case, I'd suggest green."

She considered the outline forming on the computer screen, looming large in front of her. "Why green?"

"Black is too menacing, purple entirely too gay for any man in tights, and if you wear white people are going to assume your charming alternate-reality counterpart has returned. Also, it'll be easier to sell you as working with the Lantern Corps."

"Do you have to know _everything?_" she demanded, with a certain amount of petulance. She also very carefully didn't ask him _how_ he'd gotten his information. She'd spent entirely too much time around Batman to really want to know.

"As much as possible, certainly," he replied calmly. "Any other questions I can answer?"

"No- wait, yes. Do you know of anywhere I can find men's clothing cheaply without looking like an idiot?" He'd obviously heard about the League's little problem, she might as well get his advice since she was clearly useless.

"Walmart?" Luthor offered.

"Thanks, that's a lot of help."

He chuckled. "Just give me the necessary measurements, Kal, and I'll take care of it."

"Oh, I can't-"

"I think you've got enough on your plate," he told her. "Save the world; don't waste time going shopping."

"You're not buying me clothes, Luthor. Even men's clothes."

"Consider it this month's contribution to the cause," Luthor said, and when she didn't respond added coaxingly, "Let me help, Kal. I can't wave a magic wand and fix what happened, but I can at least make it a little easier."

And this would be the thing she hated about him. In the beginning, he'd been all about the grand gesture, covering the Penthouse roof with roses and offering his empire, and it'd been easy to tell him no. But he'd learned quickly, and figured out how to offer the little things- tips on criminal gangs in her city and elsewhere, charitable contributions, PR advice, _dinner._ He paid attention to details. He smoothed things over. He made sure that her life was easier, was _better,_ with him in it.

He made it harder and harder to say no.

"Okay, but only because Diana is still stuck in a toga," she conceded, and was rewarded with his laugh. "She deserves a pair of pants."

"So do all women, really," Lex said. "Please, take pictures. Think of the blackmail potential."

Cally considered this. "I don't think Diana has enough shame about this incident for blackmail to work." Belatedly, she added, "And it would be wrong."

"Well, take a picture for my sake, then. I want it framed."

Cally rolled her eyes. "Did you actually call for a reason, or is this just one of your random annoyances?"

"I called to tell you to pick green," Luthor said. "It looks good on you."

He cut the connection before she could reply, and she was left staring thoughtfully at the uniform silhouette the computer had produced. It was the same basic design that Superman had worn, in a pure white that made her flinch instinctively, even without the crest on the chest. The cape was secured directly across the shoulder line, instead of down over the collarbone like hers, and jet black. So were the jockeys.

"So I ask for Earth-normal, and you give me monochrome," Cally sighed. "With underwear on the outside. Of course."

"Would you like me to attempt redesign, Kal-El?"

"No," Cally said, coming to a sudden decision. "I'd just as soon keep something other than tights between me and the world. Keep the jockeys, fix the cape to my standard- I'll just get tangled in it otherwise- and put a white circle on the chest." Lantern uniforms had white in them, didn't they?

"The color, Kal-El?"

She had to smile. "Keep the cape black," she said. "Change the rest to dark green and synthesize."

"Working."

Half an hour later, her uniform was finished and she studied her image in the mirror. She'd used her heat vision and a mirror to shave earlier, when she'd broken the razor trying to shave after Diana finished, and she thought it made her look clean-cut and vaguely heroic. "Not bad," she told her reflection. "Better than Superman, anyway."

Behind her, an alert chimed. "Flood warning in the Gulf Coast, Kal-El," the computer informed her.

For a moment, her reflection looked exhausted. Then she firmed up her (lantern) jaw, and reached up to run one hand through her hair, pushing back the single curl that fell over her forehead.

"Okay," she said. "I'm ready."

She was lying, but all the computer gave in reply was, "Transmitting coordinates to your earpiece."

"Right." She took a deep breath. "Here I go."

And she flew.

**~*~**

After she and J'onn finished shoring up flood barriers and evacuating the affected areas, Cally stopped back at the Fortress to retrieve all of the extra uniforms and handed them over to Flash and Hawkgirl while the Javelin was still parked on the landing pad. "You might want to change before we go," she said, but just then the computer chirped "Takeoff proceedings initiated remotely!"

"Some days I hate Batman's guts," she said, low enough that neither of them could hear her, then raised her voice and said, "Takeoff in ten seconds, you're going to have to change on the way!"

The trip up, while brief, yielded some hilarious commentary as the two of them twisted around in the fairly limited area of the rear cabin, trying to wriggle into their new uniforms. Flash could have been done in the blink of an eye, of course, but apparently he was changing at normal speed, possibly just to torture Hawkgirl.

"Flash! I have no desire to see your breasts!"

"Yeah, well, I don't really wanna see your _dick,_ either, but you're sure swinging it around. Christ, does John know you're packing that monster?"

"Do you have to blurt out _everything_ that crosses your mind?"

"Hey, it's part of my charm."

"It's _something,_ alright," Hawkgirl grumbled. "Fasten the catch at the back, please."

"Why do I feel like you can reach this yourself?"

"Ow, no, not like _that._"

"Cut me a little slack, you've got a giant pair of wings in my way."

Finally, though, they were through the docking protocols and with great relief Cally let the bickering duo out of the Javelin. The two of them were like siblings, really, which was good for the team but _exhausting_ when they started in on the squabbling.

Everyone but Diana was there in the meeting room, leaving Cally with a twinge of guilt. She should have stopped in Metropolis; Diana wouldn't be able to leave until Cally got her some proper clothes.

After. After the meeting, she'd get the clothes from Luthor and get them to Diana. She'd go as soon as she was back on-planet.

This time Batman didn't even bother glaring at her for being the last one in, just started talking as soon as her butt hit the seat. "I've contacted Zatanna and the sorcerer Jason Blood, and they've confirmed that the problem is definitely magic in origin. There's no leads so far on who did this to us-"

"Probably Morgan. She's got that nasty sense of humor."

Cally shook her head at Flash's interruption. "All she cares about is her son. He's more likely to have done this, the nasty little sneak."

"Nevertheless," Batman said, his voice raised to silence them, "there has been no sign of either, Clarion is still imprisoned, and as far as we know Mr. Mxyxptlk hasn't crossed back into this dimension. The culprit is, as yet, unidentified, but I do have more information on the spell itself."

"Well, don't hold us in suspense," Lantern said dryly when Batman paused. "Tell us."

"Zatanna seems to think that it's a low-level curse, harmless but almost impossible to remove by anyone but the caster."

"Did she mention how it would interact with technology?" Cally asked, over the disappointed mutterings. The question slipped out of her mouth before she realized she was thinking it, and she could have kicked herself when Batman sent her the same narrow-eyed stare he used in interrogations.

"Why?"

_Talk fast, Kent._ "If it's possible to built a portal to another universe, surely someone could build a device to reverse this. S.T.A.R. Labs have done the impossible before." So had Kryptonians. Cally kept her expression neutral under Batman's heavy stare.

His lips compressed into a thin line. "Well, if _someone_ figures out how to build it, I'll ask," he said finally. "In the meantime-"

They all heard the alert shrill in warning. Cally tapped her comm unit, and the Fortress computer promptly supplied her with the details before anyone could do more than get halfway out of their chairs.

"Live Wire has escaped from her prison cell," Cally said, almost knocking over her chair in her haste to stand. "I'm sorry, I have to go-"

"Of course," Lantern said, rising also. "I'll back you up." She wouldn't need it- not for Live Wire- but it would look a little suspicious, her showing up alone in Metropolis just as Superwoman had disappeared. She nodded.

"Batman, update me after?" she asked, and left before he could reply. She didn't want to hear him say "no."

"I like the suit, by the way," John told her, as they climbed into the Javelin. He took the wheel, undocking with a speed and precision that he'd probably learned in the Marines. They all brought something different to the team.

"Thanks," she said, plucking at the fold of her cape. The dark green spandex looked cool and calm compared to her usual primary color scheme, and yes, okay, it definitely did synch up nice with John's Green Lantern uniform. The average citizen didn't really know all that much about the Lantern Corps, since Killowog and the other non-human members usually only showed up when they needed the League's help off-planet, and there were enough metahuman heroes cropping up these days that no one would really question where she came from. It would be different if they expected the change to be more lasting, but-

No. She refused to even consider that option. They would get this fixed, and soon. She couldn't live like this. She wouldn't be able to stand it, not again.

"What are you going to call yourself?" Lantern asked. He sounded nothing more than curious, she was relieved to hear. "I'm still Green Lantern, either way, but 'Superwoman' doesn't exactly fit at the moment."

Cally thought of the white circle she'd inscribed on her chest, blank and empty. "I don't think I'm going to call myself anything at all," she said.

Lantern gave her a bemused glance. "I have to call you something," he said. "Yelling 'hey, you' in the middle of a fight isn't exactly the height of professionalism."

"If you have to, call me Green." Luthor liked that color on her. "I'll answer."

John looked like he wanted to say something else, but thankfully one of Live Wire's bolts hit the Javelin, and he was too busy keeping it in the air to do anything but curse.

_For once, good timing,_ Cally thought, and dove out of the cockpit and into the fight.

**~*~**

When Cally got home it was much later than she'd expected. Live Wire had apparently recruited Toyman, which was a less than amicable partnership but worked well enough to kick _her_ ass. Afterwards Lantern hauled their unconscious bodies back to jail, while Cally was called away to thwart two muggings and an attempted rape. Metropolis had noticed that Superwoman was elsewhere, and the criminal element was taking advantage. Then there had been that forest fire in Southern California, and with one thing and another, it was late and she tired.

It was only after she walked through her front door that she remembered she was supposed to pick up the clothes for herself and Diana. She stopped in the entryway and closed her eyes, frozen by exhaustion and uncertainty and guilt. She'd promised herself she'd take care of things, that she'd take of her _friend,_ but oh, she was so _tired._ She'd been taking care of things all day. Hell, she'd been taking care of things her entire life.

Then she saw the crisp white sheet of paper sitting on her (oddly clean, Diana _must_ have been bored) coffee table, with Diana's graceful handwriting slanting across in stark black ink. _I got the clothes you had delivered,_ it read. _They're lovely, thank you. I'm going out to get groceries, because you have half a loaf of bread and a jar of pickles in your kitchen._ Diana liked to cook, said that she found it relaxing. Her scathing commentary on the state of Cally's kitchen was audible even in print. _I should be back in an hour or two._

Definitely bored, Cally thought. There was no way of telling how long she'd been gone, probably as soon as the clothes had been delivered-

Delivered. Cally's overtired brain caught up with the implications she should have seen immediately. Delivered, to her home address- Luthor had-

"Oh, god," she said aloud, and collapsed on the couch. She couldn't deal with this, not now. She'd kept her identity a secret from Luthor for years now, even though she'd always known that there was a chance that he'd figured it out. But when he'd never said anything, never even hinted or given one of those oh-so-subtle little _implications_ he was so good at, she'd started to think that maybe he didn't…

But this? _Now?_

"I'm going to kill him," she decided. A knock on the door seemed to answer reprovingly, and she stared at it, a little afraid to look through and see who was there. If it was Luthor, she was giving up and moving to Antarctica. Permanently.

"Cally, if you don't open this goddamn door _right now-_"

Chloe. Sometimes Cally thought that the universe waited till she'd dreamed up the worst possible outcome, and then set out to prove her wrong. "I'm coming," she said numbly. "Wait a second." Or forever. Forever worked, too.

Chloe's eyes went wide as soon as the door swung open, and Cally braced herself for the explosion. This was the kind of thing she was supposed to tell Chloe, the kind of silence that always drove her to sulks and cold temper. She was a bad girlfriend. She was an even worse 'life partner.'

"Oh my God, look at you." Her gaze skipped down Cally's overlarge frame, still clad in her uniform because she hadn't gotten a chance to change into the clothes waiting on the coffee table. "I saw it on the news and I figured it out-" Cally winced preemptively. "-but I didn't believe it until…"

She walked in, kicked the door shut behind her, then grabbed Cally's face with both hands and stared deep into her eyes. Cally fought the urge to pull free and held herself still, allowing the examination.

"God, it's _you,_" Chloe breathed. "I'd given up hope that this might actually happen."

Half a second later, Cally found herself on the other side of the room with no conscious memory of moving. Chloe's still-hovering hand dropped to her side, and she looked at Cally with a heartbreaking confusion in her eyes. "Honey? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that you can stand there and be _happy_ when my entire world is getting turned upside down," Cally snapped. God, she wanted out of here, she wanted _out of here._

"But this is a good thing," Chloe said, like it was a fact self-evident. Like no other possibility had ever entered her mind.

It probably hadn't. "I'm a woman, Chloe. I've been a woman my entire adult life. And now I'm stuck in this… this _body_ and it's the worst thing that's happened to me since the Change."

Chloe stared at her, biting her lip. "But you always said…"

"What?" Cally demanded, when Chloe trailed off. "That I'd find a way to change back someday? I was _sixteen._"

"And you were born male!" Chloe shouted back. "You being female, that was wrong! It was always _going_ to be wrong!"

Cally clamped down on her need to run, as far away from here and Chloe's fucking _hypocritical_ judgment as she could possibly be. "And what would you have me do? Stay like this? Give up my entire life, my identity as Superwoman, my job at the Planet? Because that's what you're asking me to do!"

Chloe deflated. "No, I know, honey, I get it, I totally do. But God, there's got to be a way around all that. There's got to be a way that you can be Clark again."

Cally felt cold, all over. "That's not my name."

"Yes it _is!_ Just because you changed it once-"

"The Fortress figured out how to reverse the Change." Immediately, she wanted to take it back, but it was too late.

Interrupted, Chloe gaped at her. "What? When?"

Too late, and now she just couldn't stop herself. All the things that she'd been biting back, for so many years. "Eight years ago."

Chloe slumped back against the closed door, like her legs just couldn't hold her anymore. "Eight years."

"Just turned twenty-four," Cally continued conversationally. Some part of her knew that this wasn't the time or place to have this talk, that all she was doing was hurting Chloe, but she couldn't make herself stop. "You just had your big break at the _Times,_ and I knew I'd have to make the decision based on what I wanted. And I wanted to live as a woman. So I did."

"And you didn't even think to consult me," Chloe said with flat disbelief. "We were practically _married,_ Cal. We still are!"

Cally flinched hard at the sound of Luthor's pet name on Chloe's lips, and maybe it was because of that that the words came out of her mouth, or maybe it was because she'd stopped considering herself married the day she put away Chloe's high school photo. Either way, she looked Chloe dead in the eye and said levelly, "It didn't have anything to do with you."

It was unforgiveable. She knew it as soon as the words left her lips, before the stricken look flashed into place on Chloe's face. There was no apologizing for that, but Cally would try. She was going to, until-

Until.

Chloe said, "Clark," and reached out-

-and Cally muscled past her, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind her, then bolting down the hall and down the steps and out onto the sidewalk faster than the eye could see. Distantly, she heard Chloe calling her name, but she couldn't hear which name, so she closed her ears and kept running.

**~*~**

Eventually, she ended up where she always knew she would go- on the street outside the LexCorp tower. It was well after midnight; even the worst of the workaholics had gone to bed, but her vision caught low lighting from the penthouse windows. Luthor was still awake. She couldn't even pretend that she was surprised.

She gave up on lurking by the corner, her new uniform allowing her to hide in the shadows like she thought she was Batman, and flew up to the balcony.

Luthor looked up when she slipped through the unlocked glass doors, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a smile on his face. "Kal. I wasn't expecting you tonight. Did you like the clothes?"

Abruptly, she remembered that she was pissed at him. "Did you really think _now_ was a good time to taunt me with my secret identity?"

He blinked, the only expression of surprise he'd allow himself, and she could practically see that giant brain of his working away, trying to figure out how he'd offended her. She could also see when it clicked into place for him, and it was her turn to be surprised when he shook his head in violent negation, his whiskey glass hitting the coffee table so hard it sloshed over the side.

"No, no, it wasn't a taunt. Surely you know that, that I wouldn't do that to you." His blue-gray eyes, usually focused on her with such lazy brilliance, were pleading. "I swear. I swear to you that I was just trying to make things easier."

She sighed and slumped against the wall, her anger mostly dissipated by the honest emotion on Luthor's face. He was usually so very careful to keep himself in check around her, that sometimes she forgot just how intense he could be. He'd spent the last few years doing everything he could to fit himself into her life, and she couldn't exactly tell herself that he was just bored, because his attention span wasn't anywhere nearly that long.

"It's just that you never said anything," she told the floor. She couldn't quite make herself look him in the eye. "About me. My identity, I mean."

Luthor came a little half-step closer and then stopped, as if he hadn't meant to move. "Kal," he said seriously. She didn't look up. "I'm the one who tidied up your records several years ago. I thought you knew."

At this, she did have to look up. He was staring at her, very earnestly, and again she was struck by the intensity of his expression. "But Alistair-"

"-is good, but he's not so good that he doesn't leave fingerprints for anyone who knows how to look," Luthor told her. "You can't afford someone looking too hard. So I erased the fingerprints."

Every time she thought he'd given her his last shock, Luthor managed to surprise her all over again. She was more indebted to him than she'd even known. Cally might even owe the continued existence of her secret identity to his perseverance (obsession) and attention to detail. "So you know. About me. I mean, about before, what happened when I-"

"About the Change," he said, and she was momentarily stunned by the way he said it, the exact same way it sounded on the inside of her own head. "Yes. I don't know the mechanism by which the change occurred, but yes, I know."

"It was the ship," she told him. She was back to staring at her feet again, looking like they belonged to someone else in the big, clunky boots.

"Ship?"

"The one that brought me here," she explained. "It had an AI built into it- my biological father was a genius even by Kryptonian standards- but it was damaged at some point. Instead of wanting me to watch over and protect the Earth, it decided that I should rule it. When I refused, it… punished me. More than once. The Change was sort of a last resort for it. And when that didn't make me change my mind, it threatened my family. So I blew it the fuck up." She stopped, biting her lip. She never used that curse word.

"Ah," Luthor said quietly, tactfully. "And with it went your opportunity to change back."

"Yeah, pretty much." She shifted uncomfortably. "The Fortress computer made it through intact, though, and it figured out how to reverse the change eventually, but by then I'd adjusted. I had a life, friends who'd never known me as anything but Callista Kent, a job. I couldn't face the thought of going through the whole thing all over again, only in reverse this time."

"Sensible," Luthor said, nodding approvingly. "And healthy. Can the Fortress reverse your current predicament?"

Her gaze shot back to his so fast it pretty much left skid marks. "I _can't,_" she said. "I'd be changing the others too and I can't risk them figuring it out."

"I think you're overestimating the basic intuitive skills of most of your teammates," Luthor said, "but I can understand your caution. Batman, at least, is clever enough to put the pieces together, and he might not be able to resist the urge to use it against you."

Cally bit back the urge to defend Bruce. After all, Luthor was only putting voice to her own fears. Saying that Bruce was a good man would ring hollow under the circumstances.

And more than that, she wasn't even sure Bruce was that sort of good man, anymore. A good man for Gotham, maybe, but not for her.

"You didn't come here to yell at me about the clothes," Luthor told her, neatly changing the subject. "And if it was just the change, you'd have come to me earlier. What happened?"

_Damn it,_ but he always saw right through her. "I had a fight with my-" _Partner,_ she was going to say, but with a tingling rush of realization it came to her that she could use _names_ now. Luthor already knew. "With Chloe."

"I'm sorry." Luthor sounded sincere, which was odd considering his former relentless pursuit of her. But then, he'd cooled off in the last few years, and they'd settled into a very strange version of friendship. Maybe he'd really gotten over his… crush? Obsession? She didn't know what the right word for it even was. "Come on, have a seat. I'll get soup and tell you about Hope's current affectionate period. I'm worried she might actually be developing a personality."

"You shouldn't have hired Mercy if you wanted to avoid personality," Cally called after him, as he headed into the kitchen. The couch beckoned, so she sat down, the slick fabric of her cape slipping against the leather upholstery. Always the most expensive (and pretentious) for Luthor, even here in his private space where almost no one but her ever visited. "Can you even _cook_ soup?"

He stuck his head back out of the kitchen doorway, looking sheepish. "Marietta leaves some frozen for me."

She laughed and relaxed back into the couch, feeling better than she had for days. No, weeks. The spell was just the capstone on a generally miserable month, and it hadn't been that long ago that she thought the Justice League was broken up for good. "It's not too hard. I'll show you sometime."

He smiled back at her. "I'll take you up on that," he said, and went back into the kitchen. She heard him taking something out of the freezer, and a minute later the beep of the microwave. Oh yeah, not much in the way of cooking talent there.

She pulled off her unpleasant boots and curled her legs underneath of her, annoyed by the now-inadequate length of what she had long ago come to think of as _her_ couch. She stared into the fireplace, which had a real fire crackling merrily away, warding off the bite of the autumn air. She had probably spent more time on this couch in the last year than she had in Chloe's apartment. A lot more time.

_I'm happy here,_ she realized. Oddly enough, the realization didn't upset her at all.

She was asleep before the microwave beeped.

**~*~**

The next afternoon she went to the Fortress and asked the rest of her team to meet her.

She'd woken up a little after dawn, stiff and cramped from sleeping on the too-small sofa, with a blanket draped over her shoulders and a bowl of congealed chicken noodle soup sitting on the coffee table. The smell of brewing coffee had been what dragged her out of sleep, and when she ventured into the kitchen, padding quietly on bare feet, she found a cup ready and waiting for her, with a sugar bowl and a tiny pitcher of cream sitting right next to it. Stuck to the humming coffeemaker (which resembled a miniature Kryptonian hyperdrive to a disturbing degree) had been a note that said, _Gone to the office. Try to have a good day._

That's when she'd made up her mind.

"This is Javelin One. We're on final approach, Superwoman."

Green Lantern. It was odd; normally Batman insisted on piloting. She hoped that Bruce was on the Javelin, as she didn't want to have to do this twice. "The bay doors are open, Lantern. The control room is at the top of the main staircase." Diana had been here before, but not the others.

"Understood. Lantern out."

"This is a good thing you are doing, Kal-El," the computer told her. "It is the right course of action."

"Yeah, yeah. Just tell me that everything is ready."

The computer made a noise that on a human would probably be an exasperated sigh. "For the fifth time, yes. Everything is prepared. It will take mere moments to make the change."

"Good." Oh God, she was actually going to do this. She was seriously going through with this.

The rest of the team arrived a moment later, Bruce bringing up the rear. He was scowling- not his intimidations cowl but one of simple annoyance, an infinitesimal expression that would be difficult to read on his partially-cowled face except that Cally had gotten far too much practice reading his expressions over the last couple of years. He didn't want to be here. She didn't blame him.

They all stood around in silence for a moment, the whole massed group of them on one side and her on the other, and even though it was probably up to her to break the silence Cally couldn't summon the nerve to speak until, "What's this all about, Supes?"

It was Flash who asked, because Flash had no sense of shame and not much more in the way of tact. Most of the time, it was annoying, but today, she was grateful. The same come-what-may attitude that allowed him to take this change with little more than a shrug when even Hawkgirl was (quietly) doing some mental hamster-running was the same attitude that let him call everyone by grinning nicknames and blunder into awkward pauses as if they weren't even there.

She didn't give herself another moment to think. "I have a way to reverse the change."

There was another collective pause, and then everyone seemed to burst into speech at once. "Sister, that's wonderful-"

"-how the _hell_ did you figure out-"

"-didn't you tell us earlier?"

"_Quiet,_" growled Bruce, and everyone obeyed. Cally shot him a grateful look, but he wasn't even looking her way.

"It's Kryptonian technology, and I can probably explain it to you sometime after you've taken about twenty grad-level math classes and have a week and a couple stacks of paper, so don't ask me in too much detail, but-" She took a deep breath. "-but it can be done. I've already taken the liberty of synthesizing some basic uniforms for those who can't create their own, and have a handful of private rooms sectioned off so we won't be so- exposed- this time."

"But that's _fantastic_, Superwoman," Hawkgirl said, a puzzled frown splitting her forehead. "How did you figure this out?"

_Don't flinch, don't flinch, don't flinch._ "It was all the computer. Kryptonian tech is… unique, even among the things we have access to through STAR Labs."

"But why didn't you tell us about-" Green Lantern started to ask, but to Cally's surprise, J'onn held up a hand for silence and got it.

"Be grateful for this gift Superwoman is giving us," J'onn said gravely, his voice carrying more than a hint of censure. "I am sure that she is as eager as any of us to get this ordeal finished."

Cally shot him a grateful look, while Bruce just scowled and subsided deeper into his cloak, the way he did whenever he was annoyed but didn't have anything he could say to argue. "I've had the computer working on a solution since this happened, but I didn't want to get anybody's hopes up in case it couldn't come up with something. My people weren't all-powerful, and I have only a fraction of their technology here."

"Well, I for one am simply glad you managed it," said Diana from the back of the group, drawing Cally's gaze to her. This was the first time she'd seen her friend wearing the men's clothes that Luthor had bought for her, and she was surprised at how different Diana's broad, muscle-bound body looked in what was probably a thousand-dollar suit. She looked like a barbarian lord who ruled over boardrooms. "And as J'onn said, I'm eager to get this over with. Let's go into our separate rooms and allow Cally to make the change, and discuss this afterwards. Agreed?"

Despite the audible question mark on the end of her sentence, her words were clearly an order, and one that no one was inclined to argue against. Everyone nodded, and followed Diana down the hall to the private quarters, and left Cally alone in the control room.

Or so she thought. She was double-checking the genetic signatures to make sure that the computer had the proper readings when she heard the tiny rustle of a cape and knew exactly who was standing behind her.

"Batman."

He made an annoyed sound. "I thought you turned off your hearing habitually."

"There's only so much filtering I can do," Cally said, and then gave up on noncommittal and spun her chair around, glaring up at him. "What are you doing here, Bruce? Shouldn't you be in your room? I'm pretty sure neither of us wants you bursting out of another uniform in front of me."

Bruce scowled, an expression that looked no less frightening on the seemingly delicate angels of his new face. "You were lying back there."

Her heart thumped into triple-time, but for once she was sure that it didn't show on her face. "About?"

He shifted, a minute movement that caused his uniform to whisper quieter than human ears could catch. "Why don't you tell me?"

Her crack of laughter felt like it was wrung out of her. So close, so _very fucking close_ to fixing this cosmic error of the universe and getting back to the woman she chose to be, and _Bruce_ had to come along and delay her. "Why don't I tell you that it's none of your business and you leave me alone to fix this?"

"If you're keeping secrets from the team, it's all of our business."

The hypocrisy almost strangled her. "You're not _on_ the team, remember?"

"Someone has to ask you, and none of the others are willing to do it."

J'onn knew, and Diana, but she trusted them as the friends of her heart. Flash and Hawkgirl and Lantern were good teammates, but they had not earned this secret because it had nothing to do with the League. And Bruce- well, she'd been considering telling Bruce, not that long ago. But he'd made it clear that they weren't friends, and she didn't deserve any more consideration than… than _Flash._ Bruce did not have the right to demand her secrets.

"It's _none of your business._ I know we don't exactly have a good history of respecting each other's privacy, but on this you will back off and leave me alone and never ask me again, so help me God."

She turned around before she could catch even a glimpse of his expression, and closed her ears to his heartbeat. She didn't want to know how he reacted. "Now go to the damn room and let me fix this before I snap and break something."

Bruce didn't say anything, but his cape whispered something that wasn't an apology as he left.

"Computer," Cally said, and surprised herself with how steady her voice sounded.

"Yes, Kal-El?"

"Is everything ready?"

"It is."

"Thank you."

Cally took a deep breath, and pressed the button.

**~*~**

She went to Chloe's apartment, first, after the rest of her team piled into the Javelin wearing the computer's makeshift universe and left her alone. The Fortress absorbed the extra rooms created for the League's use, and left the discarded uniforms sitting at the entrance to the hallway. Cally looked at the little pile of clothes- Flash's slick blue and Hawkgirl's basic black and the expensive navy silk of Diana's gift from Luthor- and realized that Bruce had taken his alternate suit with him. _Maybe it'll end up in the Case like all the others,_ she thought grimly, and her laugh, when it echoed around the empty control room, sounded sad and bitter.

Chloe answered her door on the third knock, her eyes going wide and she took in Cally, wearing jeans and Luthor's gray sweatshirt that had been the only change of clothes she had sitting at the Fortress. "Oh my god," Chloe breathed, "you're back. You got it fixed."

_Sorry to disappoint,_ Cally thought, but didn't say aloud. She'd learned to guard her tongue around Chloe years ago. "Yeah," she said, and shoved her hands into her pockets. "Can I come in?"

Chloe's expression shuttered as she remembered the fight, but she stepped back and said only, "Of course."

She caught sight of what was in Cally's hands as she shut the door behind her, and her brow furrowed in confusion. "I've never seen you wear that suit."

Cally looked down at the neatly folded bundle of Diana's discarded suit, and her slowly tightening grip leaving wrinkles in the silk. She forced herself to relax her hands and said, "It was a loan. I'm returning it later."

"Ah." Chloe didn't sound like understood at all, and also didn't sound like she cared. "Listen, Cal-"

Cally really, _really_ hated the sound of that nickname on Chloe's lips. "No, let me go first." Chloe closed her mouth and nodded willingly enough. Cally took a deep breath and let it out carefully. "I'm sorry about what I said. Of course I should have told you, when I made the decision to stay a woman. It should have been something we decided together. I never should have said it didn't have anything to do with you. I just-" _-was afraid you'd talk me out of it if you knew._ "I'm sorry."

Chloe sighed and slumped back against the door. "And I'm sorry for implying that it should be anything but your choice, what you did with your body. It was just the shock of seeing you again, like that."

Chloe sounded like she was reciting an apology she'd memorized- much the same as Cally had. It wasn't that they weren't sincere, or not exactly. It was just that they were both so tired of apologizing. Sometimes Cally wondered if they did anything but fight and make up, anymore.

"So are we good?" Cally asked, and hated how pathetic and pleading her voice sounded. She just wanted this _over._

Chloe's face softened. "Of course, honey. We're always good."

Cally opened her arms and let Chloe come into them, and closed her eyes when she knew that her lover was lying.

**~*~**

Later that night, after she'd called Lois to reassure her about her "flu," and finished up the article Perry wanted, and checked in with J'onn on monitor duty at the Watchtower, and cleaned her apartment and done laundry and reorganized her bookshelves and quietly gotten over her freakout, Cally grabbed a box full of clothes and set out for the Luthercorp tower.

Mercy was on duty tonight. Cally stood on the balcony and let herself be scanned, and Mercy winked at her and said, "Think you could introduce me to that handsome gentleman in green that was here last night? I feel myself in the need for some… _saving._"

Cally waited for the expected panic attack, but instead she found herself smiling back. "He's gone, I'm afraid, and not coming back."

Mercy gave her a sharp look that betrayed the intelligence under her jocular exterior. "Glad to hear it," she said, and clicked off the scanner. "Try not to let any supervillains attack tonight, mmkay? I'm off and Hope doesn't come on till midnight."

She should be bridling at the expectation that she'd be here that long. But then, there were a lot of things that she should be doing these days, and she was starting to realize that she just didn't care.

"I'll do my best."

"Kal."

Mercy gave her a cheeky salute and made for the elevator door. Cally turned around and was met by Luthor's smile. "Hey."

His gaze flicked down to the box in her hands. "Presents?"

"Only sort of." She took off the lid and tossed it aside, handing off the box to Luthor. "More like returning presents."

Luthor took the box one-handed and poked through it with the other. "Did they suit?"

Just like Luthor, to throw away thousands of dollars on clothes that were barely worn and _not care._ "They were perfect. It's just that they're never going to be worn again."

Luthor glanced back up at her, his eyes assessing. "Never?"

Cally smiled. "Nope."

His questing fingers got to the bottom of the box and pulled up her temporary uniform, a spill of green and black over his hand. "You know this color really does look good on you."

A year ago, Cally had gone to dinner with Chloe, wearing a pretty green dress of that very shade, and had been left feeling silly and awkward, like a little girl playing dress-up. But now, wearing same uniform she'd had since her first days as Superwoman, Luthor's smile made her feel warm inside.

"I appreciate the advice," she said. She always appreciated his advice. Why lie to herself? She appreciated everything he did for her- and not just because it made her life easier. "And now I'm going to return the favor."

His eyebrows went up, and he set the box aside on a nearby end table. "Are you now?"

She grinned, huge and silly and happy. "I did promise to teach you how to make soup, didn't I?"

Lex gave a crack of laughter and returned her smile note for note. "And so you did. Well, I'm given to understand that my kitchen is now fully stocked, and I don't know about you, but I haven't had dinner yet."

"What do you know," Cally said. "Neither have I."

Luthor gave an elegant half-bow, his final flourish pointing towards the kitchen. "After you, master chef."

She cooked soup and got into a good fight and stayed long past the time Hope came back on duty, watching Monty Python DVD's and throwing popcorn every time Luthor started quoting along with the screen. Yawning, she got home around three and crawled into bed and fell asleep to the image of Luthor's smile, and didn't think about Chloe and empty arguments and emptier apologies at all.

.end.

_I got the hangman  
I got Milagro  
I got the celebration too  
The flesh is strong  
The spirit's stronger  
So shed your skin  
Baby let it through_  
-"Shed Your Skin" by Indigo Girls


End file.
